


Never Lonely Anymore

by HiMiTSu



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Post Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMiTSu/pseuds/HiMiTSu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal Lecter had never felt lonely until he met Will Graham. Now that he finally has the man he so desperately desired in his arms he hopes he'll never have to feel lonely again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Lonely Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a little character analysis of Hannibal and somehow turend into soft non-graphic porn. Something I had never written before. OMG I'm nervous. Hope it turned out alright. (I mean it's just so mild as far as smut goes but actually a pretty big milestone for me...)

Hannibal Lecter had never felt lonely until he met Will Graham. Compassion – a word he only used when talking about others, was never something he had to think much about. People saw him as a good man, if a little calloused, and he only encouraged the misconception.

And….love, a feeling he addressed only pretending to understand its meaning, was turning out to be not such an alien concept after all.

His view of life was very simple. Before Will Graham.

Their story started with a quarrel. It ends with a whispered confession. Not of love, there is no need for that, but of unity. _It’s beautiful_. Will said and nothing else mattered; nothing else would ever matter to Hannibal than those whispered words, no fear in them, no regret.

Hannibal didn’t _feel_ before Will.

But he feels now, as he runs a hand down Will’s back, sliding under the soft worn cotton of the shirt and over the naked skin. It’s warm to the touch and smooth here, no scars to break it up. Will is breathing softly in his sleep, peaceful for once with no nightmares disturbing his tired mind. Now that he accepted his nature, finally, it isn’t trying to tear up his subconscious anymore. His sleep is not deep though and he’ll sure wake if Hannibal continues with his explorations; but Hannibal has no wish to destroy his peace so forces his hand still, simply enjoying the warmth of Will and the rise of flesh under his palm with every breath of his lover.

An idea of wanting someone close, forever, is unfamiliar to him but he let it linger in his mind before, having just met Will, and by now it had taken root and grown into a monstrosity that won’t let him ever leave Will’s side. Strangely, this doesn’t bother him. With this man the Chesapeake Ripper had found a new way in life.

Hannibal had never felt alone before he met Will. He had never felt lonelier than when Will rejected him. He fears the loneliness now, lying in bed beside his partner – hoping Will can never again find a reason to leave. It’s not something Hannibal had experienced this strongly before.

Will’s dark wild curls are falling into his eyes as he sleeps, and, unable to resist, Hannibal reaches out to move them out of the way. Will looks so young in his sleep, now that he is clean shaven and there is no more ashen pallor to his skin; even with the scars he looks so innocent. The corrupted soul underneath is hidden to the naked eye, but Hannibal sees it, always had, and Hannibal loves it. He loves every side of this man, in his own way. Hannibal loves his darkness but he also has a soft spot for the light in Will, this side that picks up strays and helps out strangers. Will won’t let him kill “the innocent people” as he calls them, but it is fine, Hannibal can enjoy the hunt for a suitable victim when he has someone to share it with.

Will sighs in his sleep and Hannibal watches his face more closely, every line, scars and wrinkles – a piece of art on a canvases. Physical attractiveness is nothing compared to the beauty of Will’s dark soul, but the pleasantness of his face is also welcome.

Just as physical closeness is not necessary for them; but Hannibal enjoys slowly seducing Will, playing with his body instead of his mind for a change. Just like he loved awakening the desire for murder in his partner he opens up the possibility of intimacy between them. This time though, Will goes willingly, falling into Hannibal’s embraces, accepting touches and returning kisses.

And even now, as sleepy eyes peer at Hannibal from under long lashes, they both know what on each other’s mind. Hannibal’s hand finds its way under Will’s shirt again, this time with clear intent, riding up higher and bunching up the material until Will is pressed to help be rid of it altogether. Hannibal leans up on one elbow to press a kiss to the top of Will’s spine, his heavy palm resting just underneath. He is elated at Will’s trust, how he allows Hannibal this gesture believing the fingers won’t suddenly snap around his neck and squeeze the life out of him. Hannibal treasures it, just like he treasures everything that is Will Graham.

So he worships his body like he wants to worship the soul, pressing a kiss after a kiss to Will’s shoulder blades, nosing his soft hair and relishing in the smell of him. Then he moves lower, pressing open mouthed kisses to Will’s spine, feeling his breathing grow faster. A flush colors Will’s skin and the smell of arousal grows stronger in the air as Will’s building pleasure echoes in his own blood.

The taste of him, the feel of him is overwhelming, but what’s the most exhilarating are Will’s reactions. His submissiveness and trust that Hannibal will bring him pleasure. Hannibal’s head is reeling with just Will’s faith in him.

“Did you stop to contemplate?” Will’s teasing voice penetrates Hannibal’s daze.

“To admire the view.”

Will throws him a look over his shoulder, exasperated but softened by a smile. Deliberately Hannibal leans down to bite at the base of his spine, holding his gaze all along, but Will just laughs and turns away, pillowing his head on crossed hands. The dark desire to devour him still lurks under Hannibal’s skin, to take him in so completely by digesting his flesh, become one with his love in the most intimate way possible…It’s hard to say which part, the heart or the logic stops him every moment of every day, but he knows with a deep certainty, he’d never do that to Will.

So he bites the soft skin without breaking it and licks to sooth the sting. He sucks to leave a mark – a luxury Will allows him, and tugs on the waistband of his pants, dragging them down the pale things. Will lifts his hips to help, unintentionally pressing into Hannibal’s touch. There is nothing else to do but to go on with the kisses. Will’s skin is flushed and breaking up with goosebumps; the taste of his skin is addictive just as the smell of him and Hannibal is getting light headed with desire for this man.

He moves lower, spreading his cheeks and finally tasting Will from the inside and the younger man gasps and clutches his pillow. He smothers his moan in the rough material, only the deep heavy breaths reach Hannibal’s ears as he continues the exploration. Will shifts his body, lifting up on his elbows just a fraction to get leverage so he can rock his hips, meeting up Hannibal’s tongue and then withdraws for some unsatisfying friction with the sheets; it’s a hot slow cycle and Hannibal helps him out with hands on his hips. He can’t eat Will, irrevocably and completely – like he wants to, but he can have this: a taste of him alive and wreathing from pleasure.

“Hannibal.” A name, torn from his panting lips, a warning and a plea all in one.

Hannibal presses a sweet kiss to the inside of his thigh before tearing himself away and getting up on his knees. Will is watching him over his shoulder, cheeks red and pupils blown, lips bitten and glistening with saliva. Such a beautiful sight. Hannibal massages his flanks, in his mind forever grateful for this privilege: to know Will so intimately, to be allowed to see him this away, _any way_.

His hands close on Will’s sides with restricted strength to flip the other man on his back; Will goes willingly and sprawls languidly, throwing hands over his head. Hannibal rans both hands over his spread legs, one sensuous stroke from bony knees to his hipbones, then follows the familiar path with his tongue. A reward is a sweet sigh and a smile when he glances up. He wants to say so many things, damning confessions almost falling from his lips along with kisses, poems about the wonder that is Will Graham flooding his thoughts only to be never written, never voiced.

There is no better music to his ears than Will’s long tortured moan of pleasure when Hannibal finally takes him into his mouth, discarding all the teasing now. It’s a new unexpected addiction – a satisfaction that rolls through his veins at seeing Will’s bliss. And there are so many signs of it: harsh breaths, half-closed eyes hazily peering down at Hannibal, whitened knuckles gripping the sheets.

Will’s thighs tremble under his hands and it turns into a shudder that rocks his whole body as he comes, spilling himself into Hannibal’s mouth.

Hannibal rests his forehead on Will’s knee until the silence is broken by a breathy laugh.

“That’s an interesting way to wake up,” Will comments with a smile in his voice.

Hannibal can’t resist, he just can’t – it is not physically possible, and presses a kiss right where his lips are resting, paints a new path up Will’s body with his mouth.

He is still hard but there is no urgency to get off; still it feels pleasant to rut slowly against Will’s hip as they kiss; fingers tugging on his hair with no insistence and teeth nipping at his lips teasingly. It’s lazy and unexpectedly sweet, a contradiction to harsh desire that ruled them the night before. Hannibal’s moan as he comes is swallowed by Will and it’s gloriously good.

“A great way to start the day,” Hannibal comments, echoing Will’s sentiment from before.

This day, the next day and the one after that. Many many days to come. They will never have to be lonely again.


End file.
